


What happens when Sherlock is bored

by Sardonicpineapple



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fantasizing, Horny Sherlock, Horny Teenagers, John Watson - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Making out in the bath, Multiple Orgasms, Sex Toys, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, Teenlock, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 07:44:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18361643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sardonicpineapple/pseuds/Sardonicpineapple
Summary: Sherlock gets bored (and horny) whilst waiting for John to return from a trip. Sherlock takes matters in to his own hands, and somehow ends up handcuffed to his bed with no escape.





	What happens when Sherlock is bored

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoy! Set in the same univers as a study in cross dressing, but about five years later where John is part of the cadets and Sherlock has just started his life’s work of detecting.

John had gone up to see his parents for the weekend, and normally, Sherlock would go with him, but he’d stayed behind to write a blog entry on the different types of tobacco. John was meant to be coming home tomorrow evening. That was definitely too long in Sherlock’s mind. He’d have to find some way to amuse himself...

In hindsight, pleasuring himself with a vibrating plug and handcuffing himself to the bed was not a very good idea. The buzzing sensation was spreading through his body, tickling every nerve, his cock hard and leaking between his legs. As he sat there, he thought of john, blond hair slightly damp with sweat, beads of perspiration dotting his forehead, his cotton grey vest sticking to his chest, his camouflage jacket tied round his waist, matching trousers slung low on his hips-  
‘mmm! Ah! Yes! Yes! Yes!’  
In his thrawls of pleausre, Sherlock forgot about the key next to him on the bed. He would have had enough leeway from the cuffs to unlock himself, as he was, after all, a man of many talents, but that plan had gone out the window as soon as he thought of John, and the key had gone sailing to the floor. After coming down from his climax, he made the discovery, and subsequently the deduction that he was now stuck.

Sherlock normally prided himself on being exceptionally intelligent, but this was definitely an act not even a person of average intelligence would make. Only those who were, colloquially put, stupid, would do something like this. But while his normally highly active brain was left to stew in a soup of pent up hormones, his judgement had been extremely mangled. He blamed John. This was entirely his fault. John went out of town. What was Sherlock supposed to do? Just sit and write his blog? As he sat in his restraints, he came to the conclusion that this was probably what he should have done. 

When the second orgasm hit, it distracted him for a moment, the image of John pounding in to him spurring him on, but when he came back down from his high, panic set in again. He could be stuck for hours before john came home, and the whole time, he’d have to sit with a never ending buzzing plug between his legs. 

By the third, he was in a fair amount of discomfort. He was very overstimulated, and fairly exhausted. His upper thighs were coated with white, sticky fluid, some of it solidifying in a most unpleasant manner. He tried to wriggle his wrists out of the restraints, but it was to no success.  
He had no idea how much time had passed. He wasn’t sure if that made the hours go by faster or slower. He did after all, have plenty of time to figure that one out. 

*******************

 

Train tomorrow cancelled. Excellent. Yes, you have plenty of warning to sort out a back up, only that back up happens to be a day earlier! So, no, having to pack hastily to get a train back to London that was departing in the next hour was not ideal, but at least he got to see Sherlock a day early. He gazed fondly at his lock-screen as he listened to the general noise of the train. It was cliche, and cheesy, he knew that, but he couldn’t help himself but set it as a picture of him and Sherlock kissing under a mistletoe. He rolled his eyes as he read through the text messages from the brunette. 

💖Sherlock💖: I miss you.  
Me: I almost enjoy going away for the sake of these sweet messages.  
💖Sherlock: you’re making it easier to miss you. Thanks.  
Me: you love me anyway.  
💖Sherlock💖: I do indeed.  
Me: Anyway, I’ll see you later. Love yooouuuu, babe.  
💖Sherlock💖: 🙄 ditto.

That was this morning. He’d decided to leave out the change in plans as he wanted to surprise Sherlock. In the end, he ended up being the one surprised. 

 

****************

 

“What the fuck?”  
Sherlock was sat on the bed, actually tied to the bed, staring up at John with pained eyes and parted lips.  
“John, you’ve got to help me.”  
If he didn’t sound so desperate, and look to be in agony, John probably would have enjoyed seeing his boyfriend cuffed to the bed frame.  
“What happened?”  
John dropped down beside him to take a look at Sherlock’s restraints. His hands were cuffed together, and another set of handcuffs were linked round the chain, and cuffed to the bed post.  
“Actually, no. How did it happen?”  
“This was the only thing I could attach myself to that was steady... and I knocked the keys off the bed with my knee- ah...”  
Sherlock clenched his teeth, and threw his head forwards as a strangled moan escaped him.  
“What’s the matter? Why are you... oh...” John mused when he recognised the jolting, almost... buzzing... motion Sherlock appeared to be experiencing.  
“It’s not funny John.”  
“I’m not laughing.” John said honestly as he looked down at the floor behind the bed and saw the key.  
“I’ve had seven orgasms in the past two hours. I’m so- uncomfortable- mmmnngghh!” He sobbed. “And in a decent amount of paaaainnnn- ah!”  
John took a better look at the brunette, and saw that his bottom half was drenched in his own ejaculate, his cock red and engorged.  
“Fuck...” John sighed as he took in the distressed state Sherlock was in.  
“Alright, let me get the key, and i’ll get you out.”  
Sherlock was practically on the verge of tears by the time John managed to free him, and all but collapsed in to the blond’s arms.  
“You’ve got to turn it off... mmmm...” He whined.  
“Oh right.”  
John moved round behind him, and gingerly spread his cheeks.  
“Ah!” Sherlock whimpered, reaching out to grasp at the bed sheets.  
John managed to remove the hot pink plug from Sherlock’s pulsing hole, and turned off the buzzing object. Sherlock visibly relaxed, and flopped forwards on the bed, cheeks flushed pink, eyes rolling about in his skull.  
“Well, I must say i’m impressed with the battery life of this thing.” John mused finally.  
Sherlock didn’t comment on this. He managed to scrabble to his knees, and up in to johns arms.  
“I’m so glad you’re home. How... how comes you’re home?”  
John quickly explained the train fiasco while the brunette caught his breath.  
“To think I could have been stuck there for another 19 hours.” Sherlock shuddered. “Either the battery would have given out, or I would have.”  
John chortled and shook his head.  
“You idiot. Why did you do this anyway?”  
Sherlock pulled back, and looked away in contemplation.  
“Simplest explanation... I was horny.”  
John couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.  
“And you had to take matters in to your own hands?”  
“While I appreciate the double entendres, John, if I had done exactly that, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”  
“Fair point. Let’s get you cleaned up then, shall we?”  
Sherlock slowly rose to his feet with a supportive arm from from John, who wrapped him in a blanket, and lead him in to the bathroom.  
“I’d offer my services, but I think you’ve been serviced enough today.”  
Sherlock shot John a glare.  
“Oh come on, it’s funny. You’re not tied up anymore.” He said in defence.  
Sherlock pulled the blanket tighter around himself indignantly.  
“Right, That should be warm enough.” John stood back, hands on his hips as he watched the bath fill up.  
“Wait there a minute, I’m just getting something.”  
Sherlock sat himself on the toilet lid, tapping his fingers on his knee as he waited. John came back a moment later carrying a chair which he set down beside the now three quarters filled bath.  
“Come on then.”  
John offered a still trembling Sherlock a hand, and carefully helped him in to the bath. It was warm and soothing on his skin, the herbal sent of the lavender bubble bath relaxing him further. John sat himself in the chair and let Sherlock rest his head on his thigh. They sat like that for a moment whilst John relayed stories of his trip, and Sherlock listened eagerly.  
“Wet your hair now.” John said finally as he reached round Sherlock for the shampoo.  
Sherlock dunked his head under the water for a moment, his dark locks pooling at the top of the surface like a cloud of smoke. When he came back up, his fringe was dropping over his eyes. He huffed at the offending prices of hair, but to now avail.  
“Come here.” John chuckled, guiding Sherlock towards him by the shoulders.  
He squirted some shampoo on to his hands, and began to work it into Sherlock’s hair.  
“Mmmmm...” The brunette hummed as he sank further in to the bath.  
It was a spacious tub, big enough for both of them to sit quite comfortably when the occasion called for it, and just long enough for Sherlock to stretch out his legs.  
“Your hair is so soft.” John cooed softly as he massaged Sherlock’s scalp.  
Sherlock made some cooing noise of acknowledgement, blissfully content. John pressed a kiss to the sweet spot under Sherlock’s jaw before going back to working his fingers in to Sherlock’s dark tresses.  
“Right then, trouble. What have you learnt from today?”  
“Never handcuff oneself to anything if one is the only one in the house.” Sherlock said in a questioning manner, turning his head to look at John over his shoulder.  
“Well, Yes-“  
“And sex with you is less dangerous. And far better.” Sherlock added when he saw a playful glare forming on johns face.  
John reached down beside Sherlock, and splashed a handful of water at the younger man.  
“Hey!” He shrieked in surprise.  
He retaliated in a fit of giggles, turning around in the tub, and splashing John with a large amount of soapy water.  
“Oh you-“  
Sherlock yelped again when another splash of water hit him square in the face. A few attacks later, and Sherlock was beside himself with laughter while John just watched him with an amused smirk on his face.  
“Get in with me?” Sherlock finally said after he’d caught his breath.  
John chewed the inside of his cheek. Sherlock rolled on to his front, and sunk in to the water, leaving only his eyes atop the water, watching John like a crocodile as he stripped himself of his soaked garments. John slowly sank in to the water in front of Sherlock before pulling the brunette in to his lap, his long, pale legs straddling his hips. John leant in, and pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s wet lips.  
“You taste like soap.” John grimaced.  
Sherlock giggled, and pressed their lips together more forcefully. John leant back against the side of the bath, pulling Sherlock with him. The brunette sprawled out on his chest, gripping his waist with his legs as he gently rolled his hips. John moaned softly as Sherlock ran his tongue along his lips, asking for entrance. The blond happily obliged, his moans getting louder as Sherlock sucked on his tongue, a favoured move of his. John pulled the brunette closer by his hips, and began forcefully thrusting his tongue in to his mouth. Sherlock let out a low groan, enjoying the feeling of John’s hardening length pressing into his abdomen. He brought his hands up to run his fingers through johns soft blond hair. He gasped into johns mouth when he felt the blond pinch his backside. John didn’t even want to think about the amount of water that had sloshed over the sides and in to the floor from all their movement.  
“Mmmm... John... John.”  
“What?” John mumbled against Sherlock’s lips, reluctant to break the kiss.  
“The water has gone really cold.”  
Transfixed on the other adolescent in his lap, John had failed to notice the drop in temperature. He pulled back and frowned.  
“Better get out then.” He grumbled, choosing to ignore the now pulsing erection between his legs.  
Sherlock clambered out the side, and wrapped himself in his towelling dressing gown. John followed suit, and wrapped himself up before trailing after Sherlock in to the living room. The pair settled down in the front room, all curled up on the sofa. As they sat, Sherlock pondered how his day had started with an act that should have left him incredibly embarrassed, and ended with him making out with John in the bathtub. The universe works in strange ways, he thought, a quote made by someone who would probably curse him for applying it to his pig’s ear of a day.  
He forced himself not to laugh, not really caring to explain his thoughts to John. He’d much rather keep up the charade that his thoughts were entirely concerned with chemistry, maths, John, poisons, and tobacco.


End file.
